"I sing the Body electric; The armies of those I love engirt me, and I engirt them; They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them, (Man you’ve got to be crazy!) And dis-corrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul Womanhood, and all that is woman - and the man that comes from woman The womb, the tits, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping, love-looks, love-perturbations and rising The voice, articulation, language, whispering, shouting aloud Food, drink, pulse, digestion, sweat, sleep, walking, swimming Poise on the hips, leaping, reclining, embracing, arm-curving and tightening The continual changes of the flex of the mouth, and around the eyes The skin, the sun-burnt shade, freckles, hair The curious sympathy one feels, when feeling with the hand the naked meat of the body The circling rivers, the breath, and breathing it in and out The beauty of the waist, and thence of the hips, and thence downward toward the knees The thin red jellies within you or within me - the bones and the marrow in the bones The exquisite realization of health; O I say, these are not the parts and poems of the Body only, but of the Soul O I say now these are the Soul!”
I don’t need anybody’s permission to be remembered. I will be. Whether they like it or not.